


When we get home I'll find a way to make you smile

by Wobblegong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Absolutely buckwild amounts of headcanon underpinning everything, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Drabble Collection, Gen, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Spoilers for associated job questlines probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wobblegong/pseuds/Wobblegong
Summary: Little bitty ficlets based nebulously at the intersection of my character's AU-WoL version and the in-game job quest lines. I can’t even keep track of how many canons they wouldn’t fit so… treat them more as character studies. (Originally posted on tumblr.)





	1. Dragoon

**Author's Note:**

> The VERY specific character is Keimahl Sterrgeimwyn, here in Warrior of Light form: a Sea Wolf woman from further west than the in-game map bothers with, not from Eorzea herself but doing her best to save it anyways. Generating Sea Wolf cultural headcanon is a free action for me so I assume the underpinnings of half of this don't even make sense to other people.
> 
> Each chapter is a stand-alone best interpreted as "what if the listed job(s) were the ones she used" for purposes of determining which in-game job story counts/is used.

“I still can’t believe you did it,” Estinien accuse-muttered, prickly as his armor. “No, nevermind, I can. What I can’t believe is that anyone roped you into it in the first place.”

“It was worth it,” she rejoined. “Should a hundred men stand between me and freedom, I’d need naught but a spear and my legs to see me along.” She tilted her smile just so, to the angle that always prompted an outraged little noise. At least, for a change, the Azure Dragoon didn’t take the bait about using their tools against the wrong targets.

The conversation sailed on.


	2. Paladin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence warning for someone getting slugged.

She was glad, somewhat, when the return was made and smiles were donned and things were set… if not to rights, at least less askew.

That didn’t mean she didn’t recognize, didn’t _get–_

She was generous enough to come back later, once the boy was busy and there’d be nobody around to witness it. Solkzagyl smiled to see her coming, started with a welcoming nod and a “hello sister” and had about half a breath to place what expression she wore before her fist connected with his face.

She was also generous enough to help set his nose and wipe the blood away while she explained, at great length and volume, that repurposing the arc of old legends and tales dear to the Rainlands wasn’t as fucking clever as you think it is, you sand-brained excuse for a protector, and if you do it a third time I’m only going to help so I can find your bolthole at the end of it and personally make those rumors of your terrible death come true _because a storyteller can make whatever they want come true but living men cannot; do not risk it._

Solkzagyl was generous enough to look maybe half as chastised as he ought to be, with only _some_ smile creeping in the edges, and clapped her shoulder as she left.


	3. Dark Knight/Warrior

It was– and no surprises here, she won another idle bet against herself but it was too inevitable to savor– Rielle who asked, finally, because Sid would probably sooner volunteer to dance with some fancy knife-ears after what she’d put him through in the Churning Mists. “Why weren’t you surprised?”

“What?” said Sid, because it was a serious question whether there was space in his head for anything but the abyss and whatever was in front of him at a given moment, and right now he was clearly enjoying that ale.

“Hmm?” said Keim, head tilting, because Rielle needed to expand her conversational settings beyond ‘terse’ lest she make it to adulthood with Sidguru only understanding her via outside intervention.

Rielle frowned with knowing disapproval _(quicker than a storm’s warning gust, that one)_ but elaborated only a hint begrudgingly: “When the moogles said all that about it taking more than darkness, that there’s protecting too and all the other things. You weren’t surprised.” Most people would think her accusatory. Keim recognized it as normal Rielle intensity and made a thoughtful noise.

“Wait, you weren’t… you _weren’t_ surprised,” Sid exclaimed as he abandoned his drink. “You were… you were in league with them, weren’t you?” He pouted. Distantly, Keim contemplated how many otherwise-sensible people were going to do very stupid things for that pout in a few more turns, but didn’t do more than give him the lone raised eyebrow of I Suggest You Rethink That as Rielle impatiently said “no, she wasn’t.” Sid’s pout stuttered as he tried to formulate a new wild guess, aaaand that was enough of _that,_ so.

“The man that helped me with my axework,” she paused, glanced aside. “Two men. Brothers. The tradition they trained me in focuses on taming what they call one’s Inner Beast.” She shook her head as the other two opened their mouths. “Tis nothing like the abyss, no.” Two mouths shut in unison and Keim did not laugh because she was trying to explain something for once (and also because they were humorless even by Ishgardian standards). “The abyss comes from within. The Inner Beast is… it _is,_ ” _(still it galled that there were no better words)_ “and it _fights_ you. It wants to win and you cannot let it.” She didn’t realize she was staring into her soup until Rielle spoke.

“Protecting something is how you win?” _(Twelve but Keim_ ached _when Rielle looked like that, so intent that all the ghosts curled around her heart squeezed and whispered unheard snatches of memory. Llymlaen, I beg you, whip her wind til the end of her days, may her currents never calm.)_

“If all you want is to protect something, you’ll lose.” Rielle frowned, still intent on the answer. “Because to protect, you’ll want to fight, and when you want to fight you’ll forget why you started. The bliss of setting yourself against something, it will drive every other thought from your head.” She was looking at her soup again– no, the reflection of her face because all she could think of was red eyes– and she slammed the door shut on her thoughts to conclude, “You need an anchor. You cannot simply… do what you’re doing. You cannot just have a purpose or a reason. You need something more important, something that forces you to set those aside.” She smiled as comprehension backlit the girl’s face.

“Just as the moogles bid?” and, well, it wouldn’t have been a sucker’s bet, but Keim couldn’t pretend it _wholly_ unexpected that Sid would be the one to sit there with a mug in one hand, quietly thoughtful, and actually sodding _get it._ She met his gaze and nodded. Rielle glowed with quiet satisfaction as they each lapsed into silence again, thoughts sloshing about.

Keim had the bowl nearly to her mouth before Sid grumbled, “Did your axe-masters sing you a song for that lesson?” She laughed so hard she started hiccuping, and the whole time he had the gall to look hunted and just a little bit confused. Rielle shook her head and said nothing.


End file.
